


The Hunt

by lodessa



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-27
Updated: 2008-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-07 14:13:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lodessa/pseuds/lodessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was she whom he chased when poor Daphne despaired. It was she whom he struck out at through the Trojan princess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hunt

Born in exile, they were different from the other ten. 

Apollo had seen more than the rest. His curse of rebuffed love, so legendarily cruel, was a tiny fraction of what he endured daily. When he was but new he rebelled against the tide, turning fate on it's head only to have destiny whip around and crack back into place leaving only pain for his hard work. Yet he still balked at restraint, yearning to tear apart and take what he wanted.

Artemis had no such conflict. Carefree and wild, she did as she pleased when she pleased and how. She forgot things in an instant that never left him. Haughty and proud, she bounded over obstacles that stopped the rest of the word flat in their tracks.

It was she whom he chased when poor Daphne despaired. It was she whom he struck out at through the Trojan princess.

They had been born as one, but so they did not remain. He remembers the moment. Facing that great king, he'd swallowed knowledge and she'd disavowed its taste. That was there it began. It was there it would end.

Apollo knew things. Blessed and cursed, he knew more than the rest, but he did not know everything.

He did not see Orion coming but, once he was there, Apollo knew the rest. He saw it clearly as if he was there himself. He saw Artemis forsworn, and yet unchanged. He knew that the refusal was just another of his sister's whims, another barb in his side. He wanted to strike. He wanted to show her that he was not just another toy, that she was bound to him too deeply for such games of cruelty. But he couldn't interfere with what he knew would come.

The heavy weight of knowledge was his.

Ever changing, he found her lounging by the deep pools, where water nymphs sang with utter abandon. Spying him they dove deep, slipping away as if in flight. He was not meant for the water and earth. He knew this, but their retreat made him long to chase and to catch. He might have, had she not been there.

Lithe and slender, she seemed as always to be daring him. 

The word brother on her lips provoked unreasonable fury within him. It meant none of the rights and all of the restrictions. Other sisters listened to their brothers, respected them. Artemis did neither. To her he was little more than a joke, and a bad one at that. He could feel the ire rising, the desire to overwhelm and subdue. He wondered if she knew.

He was a god of eloquence, but around her, his equal and opposite, words failed him. He wanted to plead with her. He wanted to command. He did neither. 

"Shall I play your little game of prophecy, then?" She laughed, first to speak, "You are going to tell me that I ought to stay away from Orion, that you'd seen the future and he will cause some sort of dreary doom and destruction, right?"

"Do you think I enjoy being the bearer of bad news always, sweet sister?" Apollo bit his tongue, praying for her not to run off just yet.

"I think, perhaps, that you enjoy suffering and persecution." Her tone was mocking as always.

"I enjoy your company, when you care to grace me with it."

"Perhaps if you were less of a downer I might wish to spend more time with you."

Apollo, as always resiting the predatory impulse and tried to think rationally. After all, he was a god of enlightenment.

"If you find my presence so repugnant, then I will leave." He acquiesced, without grace, "Make no mistake though. Orion will cause you harm. I'm seen your tears in this matter in the stars and I know how much you hate crying."

He walked away slowly, hoping to be called back. She let him go, however. He could hear her laughter mixed with that of the nymphs as he retreated out of sight. It echoed in his dreams. They were, as always, of her. Perhaps he ought to hang Morpheus up for his complicity, but he knew that this was as he wished it to be, for the pain of longing was better than absence all together. The night seemed longer than ever before, but, when he rose, he knew instinctively what must be done.

He saw the fateful slopes; he heard the anguished cry. He walked as if in a trance. His smile was too easy and his heart too heavy.

He found her on a mountain top, shooting the wildlife for her own amusement. Her step was light and he let his match it.

"Good day, sister. I have come to make amends for my dreary visit yesterday. Today I promise to be pleasant and only in pursuit of the best sport." He almost believed himself that he was merry.

She rewarded him with a small smile, "If you prove to be otherwise, I will shoot you myself." She told him, sounding as though she might enjoy the latter option more.

She ran and he followed. It seemed like he had been chasing her forever, never gaining on her but never falling behind. The crunch of leaves in the forest and dappled light through the trees. Grabbing her hand he turned her towards a tiny figure in the distance.

"The greatest prey in the woods, and I have found it for you. Will you hit it, dear sister, or shall I have to get it for you." He teased her knowing it would make her determined to succeed. Otherwise, she might think a moment and discover his treachery.

She shot and and then racing forward to discover her success, he saw her falter as comprehension dawned in her face. It was followed by the tears he had prophesied and she had dismissed. Not soft and supple in grief but sharp and venomous, she clawed him like a wild cat, screaming like a banshee and he was run off. 

Apollo walked slowly away from Orion's corpse, the beautiful features of the dead man's face making the scratches less bitter and the songbirds more lovely. Artemis would forget this violation, would fly forward free, and Orion would have no time to practice his witchcraft and destruction. Apollo could wait though. Soon she'd forget and the game would begin anew. If she wanted to run then he would chase, as he always had. He could out hunt the huntress. He could set a trap; he merely had to resist the fury within him. He knew her for a liar now and sooner or later we would creep under the mask and force her to reveal the truth to him.

They were different from the others, but she was not so separate from him.


End file.
